Scientists should study my brain chemistry, because I'm often overcome by a pervasive sense of good fortune not always relevant to the situation at hand. A feeling that I'm lucky -- that I've already lived a good life well worth the price of admission. (Voice in head: Uh, you have NO idea how much interest and fees are yet to come due.)
Not lucky as in, "I'll win the lottery some day, I can feel it." Not good as in, "I'm not worthy." Just good as in: "Damn, this ride is nice, and I'm in full position to enjoy it." Serotonin levels appear to be naturally managed just fine. Even episodes of depressing troughs are an object of fascination for me that ultimately end up being "fun" in retrospect.
I just finished an epic trip to Denver to ski in the mountains and see the NCAA's "Frozen Four" college ice hockey championship. While those activities were events in themselves, the true joy was doing the trip with eight friends.
They included my own brother and two other sets of brothers. Some solid characters who make you laugh so much you cry. Physical activity, the rush of gravity on the slopes. Gorgeous mountain views and ponderings on the ski lift rides up. Food and drink fit for kings. Laughter and mirth. Ball-busting ridicule only a friend can appreciate.
Conversation ranged from particle physics and how to deconstruct Christianity for your kids to -- more frequently, I assure you -- juvenile jokes such as all manner of innuendo for the brother who joined us in the hottub naked because he left his suit at home.
The look of horror on my brother's face when he's returned to the hottub, drink in hand, and settled in only to discover -- through murky jet bubbles -- that the new guy has brought a loose snake into the waters ... well, that's a priceless look.
For a "night on the town" in Denver -- one of those adventures whose surreal nature escalates with each new destination -- one friend wore the following ensemble (pictures to follow later): dirty sky blue sweat pants, slip-on Crocs, a 15-year-old college t-shirt, and a leather jacket to tie the outfit together. A source of endless entertainment, he was even approached by a stylin' woman on the street who was dressed to party and said:
"Wait ... oh my GOD, those are sweatpants. Dude that's not right!"
Her tone was not mocking. Under normal meatmarket rules she wouldn't give him the time of day, of course, but hers was the kind of semi-appreciative tone that carries with it an inherent admission: Many social norms are ridiculous, so if you're going to blur them, best to shatter them beyond recognition. Her appreciation was an unspoken commendation: Well done, sir!
So at trip's end I'm sitting in the airport with a low-level headache. Tired, beaten by skiing, altitude and alcohol, the last thing I want is the Airport Experience, where food is awful and my tube of toothpaste is a threat to national security.
But as I'm sitting with my brother over bad airport food, the thoughts running through my head turn to how good I have it. I just had a beautiful trip with friends and family. Flirting with heaven's bourne and covering several of the tenets of what life is, or should be, about.
A bounty of shared experience among friends informing newer ones. Laughter from the day's beginning to the night's end. At the end, a wife I love to return to. A remarkable lack of hardships in general. *ducks for the incoming asteroid*
Yeah, I've had it good.
Two years ago on this Colorado trip, the front-right tire flew off our Jeep on the highway just minutes after we got out of the mountains. Had it come off 15 minutes earlier, I'm probably done on this planet as a single cohesive living unit. Yet even if that incident had turned out differently, I'd still have to say in retrospect -- my family's sorrow excluded: Yeah I had it good.
As you may have noticed, the site has changed. Sampa, the free-site host, did a version 2 of some sort.
Despite an FAQ that made it sound like allowing one's site to go through v.2 surgery would be okay, there were several flexibilities that surprisingly disappeared with the click of a button. (e.g. I cannot believe sidebars like this one are even narrower than before.)
And I'm told -- miraculously! -- that the conversion cannot be undone. Truth be told, I'm actually quite pissed. But free is free. Sampa has otherwise been good to me.
So I need to sort through site "features" to see how I can make do. Except that I don't have the time at the moment, in the middle of graduate classes and Lighthousehockey.com. (btw, I've removed that Lighthouse RSS feed so that you're not clogged with random Islanders hockey gibberish).
But I promise to touch up the accessories when I get a chance, and return to irregularly scheduled blogging.
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February, 2008